Francis POTT (b 1957)
At First Light (2014) [41:57]
Word (2012) [37:29]
Joseph Spooner (cello)
Christian Wilson (organ)
Commotio/Matthew Berry
rec. 2019, Keble College Chapel, Oxford, UK
Texts included
NAXOS 8.573976 [79:26]
My admiration for the music of Francis Pott goes back essentially to 2006. I had heard a few individual pieces by him previously but it was the opportunity to review a disc by the Choir of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, devoted to his choral music that really grabbed my attention. I’ve since heard recordings of two very substantial works: the huge Christus for solo organ (review) and the extraordinary The Cloud of Unknowing for tenor, choir and organ (review). The Oxford-based chamber choir, Commotio, which specialises in modern vocal music, has already released an excellent CD of shorter pieces by Pott (review); either that disc or the aforementioned Dublin CD represent an ideal way for those unversed in this composer’s music to become acquainted with it.
This new disc includes the first recordings of two major works for chorus that Pott has composed in the last few years. The earlier of the two, Word, was written as a contribution to that remarkable collection of contemporary choral music, The Merton Choirbook, which celebrates the 750th anniversary of the foundation of Merton College, Oxford. The commission came from Rev. Nicholas Fisher. Dr Fisher is an Anglican clergyman, now retired, I believe, who has compiled the texts for a number of fine choral works, notably An English Requiem (2010) by John Joubert. Nicholas Fisher crafted the text for Word as well; he had the happy inspiration to combine poetry by R S Thomas (1913-2000) with selected verses from the opening of St. John’s Gospel (‘In the beginning was the Word’). In his booklet notes, on which I’ve drawn for information about both the works here recorded, Francis Pott indicates that the poetry of R S Thomas presented certain compositional challenges, but it seems to me that those challenges have been successfully surmounted.
The work is scored for chorus and organ. It comprises 14 short sections, all separately tracked, which play continuously. The independent organ part is an important one and I should imagine it presents quite a few challenges to the player. Christian Wilson is exceptionally well qualified for this assignment, though, because he is one of the handful of organists who have surmounted the prodigious difficulties of Francis Pott’s huge organ symphony Christus. Here, he makes a telling contribution and his registrations seem adroitly chosen so as to get exactly the right sounds out of the Keble College Chapel organ.
The score includes several short passages in which the unaccompanied choir sings verses from St John’s Gospel. Pott says that he aimed to keep these passages “simple and unvarnished in effect”: he has certainly succeeded. These short episodes fulfil an important structural function; they punctuate the five Thomas settings in which, with one exception, the organ always joins. The first Thomas setting is an excerpt from his poem R.I.P. 1588 – 1988. Here, the music is dynamic and forceful and to my ears it illustrates very well the uncertainties voiced by Thomas. By contrast, much of the music in the setting of The Bright Field is very beautiful and in a calmer vein, though there are one or two passages where the words inspire Pott to outpourings. This is the most extended of the sections and I have the sense that this particular poem particularly fired Pott’s imagination. I liked very much the bright energy which characterises much of his setting of Meditations. Here both the textures and the rhythms are kept light and lively.
I mentioned that the setting of words from St John’s Gospel have a structural importance. That’s also true of the organ which has two movements to itself. The instrument opens the work with a short, pensive prelude which sets the tone perfectly for the choir to sing ‘In the beginning was the Word’. Towards the end of the work, after the choir have sung their fifth Gospel excerpt, there’s an organ Epilogue. This starts quite modestly but eventually rises to an imposing climax. Then the music recedes and paves the way seamlessly for the penultimate section of the work, during which the organ is silent. Here, Pott
had the idea of drawing together the twin textural threads of the score. A solo soprano and tenor, singing in unison, deliver the last Thomas poem, The Word. In the background, the choir quietly sings again the five Gospel passages that we’ve heard to date. The effect is very striking – the two soloists sing very well and the music itself is lovely. Then the choir sums up the whole work by singing the words ‘And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory’. Finally, the organ re-enters with a hushed postlude. I think that throughout the work Nicholas Fisher’s fusion of scripture and modern poetry has been very skilled.
The manner in which the composer brings everything together in the final
section of the score is especially discerning and satisfying
Word is an impressive piece. The text demands – and repays – careful thought on the part of the listener while Francis Pott’s music evidences great empathy with the words. Commotio sing what is clearly demanding music with great skill and assurance.
At First Light is another piece in which the commissioner played an important part in fashioning the design of the score. An American, Eric Bruskin commissioned Francis Pott to write the work in memory of his mother. Designing the work was not a straightforward task, as Francis Pott explains. Mr Bruskin is a member of the Jewish faith whereas his chosen composer describes himself as “an agnostic humanist, brought up in the Anglican tradition”. Francis Pott devised an anthology libretto which incorporates elements of the Jewish and Christian traditions as well as some more secular texts and the result seems to me to be a very successful fusion. Mr Bruskin also made two other important requests, both based on his admiration for Francis Pott’s previous output. One was that the work should incorporate an important solo cello part. The other was that the score should include “a centrepiece which would be both a celebration of a life well lived and a showcase of contrapuntal technique”. So, the seven movements of At First Light describe a kind of arch comprising reflective movements leading up to and away from an extrovert central movement.
The solo cello acts as a kind of commentator and reflector on the words sung by the choir. The cellist opens the work, playing a very intense lament over which, the choir eventually sings Latin words from the Mass for the Dead (‘Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine’). Their passages of subdued homophony stand in contrast to the searching cello part which explores tonality in an unsettling fashion. There follows a short movement in which the choir sings, again in Latin, words from the Book of Ecclesiastes with the cello providing an emotive commentary. This leads attacca into the third section, a setting of poetry by Thomas Blackburn (1916-1977). The movement is entitled ‘Daybreak’ and it seems to me that both the words and the music to which they are set herald a gradual change of mood away from the lamentation of the first two sections. The cello part is still plaintive but you can sense, in the relative innocence of the choral writing, that the spirit of At First Light is lightening. Emotionally, therefore, the third section prepares us for the passage which comes next.
This central section is a setting of a Latin text which conflates the text of Psalm 150 and a paraphrase of the psalm. Here the cello is completely silent. The music is lively and exuberant. Once or twice the music relaxes a bit and the dynamic level falls, but in those brief episodes you feel that the music is re-gathering itself. Overall, the energetic propulsion of the music is pretty continuous. It’s writing that demands – and here receives – great accuracy and precision. The members of Commotio articulate it superbly, always investing their singing with great rhythmic vitality and drive. In the last couple of minutes, I wouldn’t like to speculate as to the number of parts into which the choir is divided but the music fairly teems with activity This is a real tour de force on the part of this highly accomplished choir.
After a movement which combines words by Kahil Gibran (1883-1931), Alun Lewis (1915-1944) and from the Book of Wisdom, the last two sections of At First Light are, I think, particularly satisfying, both musically and in terms of the construction of the libretto. First comes a section entitled ‘We follow the dead to their graves’, a setting of lines by the American poet, Wendell Berry (b 1934). Parts of this movement are scored for two solo voices and cello; hereabouts the spare textures really suit the words. Elsewhere, the full choir sings. The whole section is very moving but even more moving is the seamless segue into the last section, ‘God of compassion who dwells on high’. This sets (in English) words from the Hebrew Liturgy of Interment. The effect of hearing one movement after the other is as if we have followed the deceased in procession to the graveside. Pott’s music for the final section is slow, subdued and prayerful. The cello continues to have keening music but now I find its lament somehow consoling; that’s as much as anything a tribute to the artistry of Joseph Spooner. Finally, cello and choir return to the words, ‘Requiem aeternam’ with which we began. I can’t be certain, since I’ve not seen a score, but I think that we don’t hear an exact reprise of the opening music; however, there’s certainly a reprise of the opening mood. The work ends in tranquil solace.
At First Light is a wonderful composition. It presents a most satisfying and discerning synthesis of words and music. Francis Pott has produced a work of great eloquence and no little beauty. I find it hard to imagine it could have received a more auspicious debut on disc. I understand that the cello part was written with Joseph Spooner in mind. He plays the music with complete engagement and commitment. His highly expressive tone, it seems to me, penetrates to the heart of the music. The singing of Commotio is equally eloquent and accomplished. I’ve greatly admired their work on disc in the past but I think their achievement in this work – and in Word – is arguably their most significant to date. Their founder-conductor, Matthew Berry, has clearly prepared them scrupulously in these two demanding scores and draws excellent, highly committed performances from them. There are several solos taken by members of the choir; all soloists acquit themselves really well.
The disc has been produced and engineered by Adrian Lucas, who served as Director of Music at Worcester Cathedral from 1996 to 2011. I wonder if it’s a coincidence that the 1999 Three Choirs Festival in Worcester, for which Mr Lucas was the Artistic Director, commissioned Francis Pott to write his oratorio A Song on the End of the World. Sadly, I missed that premiere, though I believe it was well-received. Goodness knows if I’ll ever get a chance to hear that large-scale score. The present recordings are excellent. The choir is clearly presented, as are the organ and the cello. Furthermore, there’s a pleasing acoustic ambience round the sound. The documentation is very good and the composer’s own notes are highly informative. My only quibble is to express regret that space could not be found to include English translations of the Latin passages in At First Light; not all the original texts will be familiar to every listener.
I’m delighted that these two fine and significant contemporary choral works have made it into the catalogue, especially in such first-rate performances.
John Quinn
